“I’ve met her, but no, not really. Bobby Vaughan was the lead on our Jane Doe case, though. Until yesterday. Small world.”
“You don’t know how small. Vaughan’s assault and his wife-to-be’s abduction? I’m running point on that investigation.”
“Busy man.”
“Tell me about it. I first pegged Diana Gale as a suspect, the way she disappeared and all. But now…”
“Now you think this might be her.”
“She has the same hair color and same build as the body you’re about to see. And that’s not all.”
They followed a bend in the trail. A clearing opened before them. Floodlights highlighted twisted branches of oak. And hanging from one of the thick branches of the largest tree was a woman’s bloody body, head down, tied by the ankles.
Like a crime scene photo straight out of the past.
Val approached the body, noting each of the cuts Harlan had demonstrated on her dinner.
“Thoughts?” Stan Perreth finally said, breaking the silence.
“I’m glad you called,” Val managed to push from dry lips. The probability that their copycat killer had now taken at least two victims they knew of was disturbing enough. The thought that this woman might be Bobby Vaughan’s fiancé was too personally tragic to contemplate. “What else makes you think this might be Diana Gale?”
“Diana was part of a long-term research project at the university. And at various times, that project included interviews with Ed Dryden. Interviews she conducted.”
“You think he might have directed this from prison?”
“A woman visits him and then ends up dead? In just the way he liked to kill his earlier victims? Seems possible, doesn’t it?”
Val felt sick to her stomach. “Has Bobby Vaughan regained consciousness?”
“Last I checked, they were keeping him under.”
“Does Diana Gale have family? Someone who can help with DNA?”
“As a matter of fact, she does. A twin. She came to Madison for the wedding and she’s still here.”
“Good. How about the university study?”
“I’m in touch with the professor running it.”
“And the FBI?”
“I have a call in.”
Val pulled out her phone, took several shots of the body and the surrounding area, and traded phone numbers with Stan Perreth.
“Want to go with me to talk to the twin? I could use a woman’s touch.”
Death notifications, whether Diana was actually dead or not, were one of the worst parts of a law enforcement officer’s job. And if Val could no longer have the best parts, she was sure not volunteering for the worst. “I’m afraid you’re on your own for this one.”
“Coward.”
Val gave him an apologetic shrug.
Besides, she had a stop to make. And broaching the subject of Ed Dryden with the person she was about to visit was going to be tough enough for one night.
Bryce
Bryce held the door and ushered Sylvie out of the building. The cool slap of autumn felt refreshing after the stifling heat inside. He peered down the vacant slope of Bascom Hill stretching down to Library Mall and onward to State Street, and eventually the glowing white dome of the state capitol.
It was a beautiful night. Too bad they couldn’t enjoy it.
“Do you think it’s possible?”
For a moment, Bryce thought Sylvie had been reading his thoughts. Then reality came crashing back. “That Ed Dryden is behind Diana’s disappearance?”
“There’s no way he could have that kind of reach in the outside world, is there? I mean, if he was involved in organized crime, that would be another thing. But he’s just one man.”
Bryce had thought the same thing, before Tanner’s death.
“I mean, Sami Yamal seemed pretty bitter,” Sylvie went on. “Maybe he kidnapped Diana to discredit Bertram.”
“Seems like there are easier ways for him to do that.”
“Or maybe Bertram did it.”
“She was helping him with his research. He has no reason to want her to disappear.”
She blew out a stream of air in frustration. “Well, he seems like a more likely candidate than a serial killer who is behind bars.”
“You’re scared.”
She didn’t say a word, just started walking faster.
“It’s okay to be scared, Sylvie. I’d be worried if you weren’t. Dryden is a scary guy.”
“Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
“Then why go out of your way to help me? Why not walk away?”
“What do you mean?”
“Smuggling that folder out of Diana’s. Coming with me to talk to Bertram. You didn’t have to do any of that. Nothing is keeping you here. If you’re scared, why not walk away?”
He wasn’t sure if he was that transparent or if she was trying to convince herself his real motive had nothing to do with actually helping her. “I told you, I have to talk to Diana—”
“About your case, yeah, yeah. Must be an important case.”
“It is. But that’s not all. I also don’t want something bad to happen to your sister. No matter what, she doesn’t deserve that.”
“You think she is one of those women who are attracted to serial killers—a groupie—don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You do.”
“Probably.”
She dropped her gaze to the leaves scattering under her feet. With her eyes cast down and anxiety digging lines in her smooth complexion, she looked frustrated, hopeless. “It doesn’t seem like her at all.”
“Your sister was playing a dangerous game when she entered that prison to interview Ed Dryden.”
Sylvie shook her head. “He’s in prison. Behind bars. How could he hurt her? Psychologically?”
“Definitely. There’s also a chance he has help on the outside.”
Sylvie wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered.
Even though he knew her chill was more psychological than physical, he shrugged out of his wool overcoat and draped it around her shoulders.
She held up a hand. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”
That stubborn streak again. Stubbornness that only made him want to help her more. What did that say about him? “It’s cold. Take it. It’s the least I can do.”
Grudgingly, she grasped the lapels, pulled the coat around her, and continued walking.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Accepting my coat. You’re saving me from all the guilt I would feel watching you shiver.”
“I’m not used to… stuff like this.”
“No kidding.”
She shot him a frown. The breeze blew a strand of blond against her cheek.
Bryce stared straight down the hill and quickened his pace. He shouldn’t even be noticing the way the wind blew her hair. Not if he wanted to keep his focus where it belonged.
“You said you saw the prison’s visitor logs. Who else visited Dryden? Besides Diana?”
“In the last six months? Just your sister and Dryden’s attorney.”
“If someone is relaying messages for him, maybe it’s his attorney.”
Her suggestion was so ironic, it took a second for Bryce’s brain to rattle back into place. “Impossible.”
“Why?”
“I know his attorney. Or his former attorney now. The guy’s an egotistical bastard, but he’d never be Dryden’s lackey. Trust me.”
“Are you sure there’s no one else?”
“Sure, there’s someone else. Prison guards. Other inmates. Any of them could have delivered a message for him.”
Sylvie checked her watch. “Damn, it’s late already.”